


Bailey's, Kahlua, and a mouth full of cream

by PoisonJack



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Bartender AU, Blowjobs, Jack digs it, M/M, Modern AU, Rhys is a funny little thing, basic PWP, loads of fun innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 17:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15635751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/pseuds/PoisonJack
Summary: Rhys needs a job, so he tries the bartender thing. And fucking his boss.Some basic porn without plot and too many blowjob jokes.





	Bailey's, Kahlua, and a mouth full of cream

**Author's Note:**

> I was fresh out of bartending school when I wrote most of this xD it wasn't school so much as a two week crash course but damn it got me where I am hahah. And yes, Rhys' general exposure is the way a lot of new baby bartenders tend to think AHAHAH

“Seriously though bro, you look perfect.”

“Are you sure? It's not too much?”

“No way, Fiona said it's that type of place, right? You wanna look the part.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Rhys looked himself over in the bathroom mirror as Vaughn helped him get ready for a job interview. A bartending job specifically, and his first ever after completing a two-week crash course.

They didn’t know what to expect, but they had in mind a common view of what a proper bartender should look like, and were dressing him for the part. He wore a black V-neck t-shirt, the tattoos on his chest partially peeking out and then reappearing down his left arm. He had a false piercing pinched into his right eyebrow, a fake septum ring hanging from his nostrils, and three magnetic ball bearing studs attached to his ears. Vaughn helped him style his hair into something the both of them considered ‘badass’, but approachable. 

He fit the part if he ever thought so.

“You look great dude. I’d totally believe you were a bartender if I saw you in one.”

“‘Dress for the job you want’ and all that jazz?” Rhys said with a snort. “I just hope I don’t have too much competition. I don’t think pouring shots at Fiona’s birthday party counts as ‘private event’ bartending,” Rhys added with a cringe to the resume they’d thrown together. ‘Exaggerate’ didn’t even come close to how they’d inflated his experience.

“They didn't even post the ad online yet dude, I checked. You’re gonna nail this before anyone else snags it up!” Vaughn’s smile turned serious as he looked at Rhys in the mirror. “And it’s not like you’ve got any other interviews right now to pass this one up….”

Rhys snorted. “Our rent isn't going to pay itself.”

“Exactly.”

They both looked him over with careful consideration in the mirror, knowing they’d be screwed if Rhys couldn’t land this interview.

“Put one more in my eyebrow….”

\--

The bar Fiona mentioned was less than a hole in the wall, but more than a dive. _Hyperion_ wasn’t exactly like Rhys had expected from what she’d told him, but he wished he’d gone with her once before applying to get a proper feel for the place.

He didn’t feel too out of place with his garb though. There was a woman with short blue hair and tattoos polishing glasses when he’d walked in, the yellow of the neon sign behind the bar casting an ethereal glow about her-- and those nursing cold beers at the bar. The old jukebox in the corner played some rock tune that Rhys didn’t know the words to, but the folks waiting their turn at pool bobbed their heads in time with the rhythm. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d _seen_ a proper jukebox that hadn’t gone to full digital. It was… _quaint._

It wasn't too intimidating of a place overall, and Rhys found himself feeling a bit more confident as he asked after about the interview. The bartender, Maya, she introduced herself, brought him back to the main office with a quickly chuckled “Please land this, I want some time off,” and tossed him in with the owner himself.

“Potential new bartender, Jack. And my sister’s wedding is in _two_ weeks now, by the way,” she hinted as she ushered Rhys to the chair across from the desk the owner-- _Jack-_ was sitting at.

“Yeah yeah, I didn’t forget. Don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.”

She gave Jack the finger and Rhys a grin before leaving them alone in the office.

Rhys sat across the owner, trying not to fidget at the older man’s intense inspection of his overall appearance. He hoped it was enough to impress, because whatever he’d been expecting of a bar owner, this man was… something else.

He was handsome as hell, great hair, mismatched eyes just like Rhys’ own, and an old healed scar arching over his face. A _real_ nice package in a leather jacket and white shirt, like something out of Rhys’ dirty little biker fantasies, but the younger man quickly banished such thoughts from his head and focused on the role he needed to play to get the part.

Rhys was glad he and Vaughn had gone so in-depth to give him his current look because _Handsome_ Jack-- as the owner had introduced himself after a moment- was clearly a badass and a half. Rhys wondered if he woke up with his hair looking like that, or spent hours trying to get it perfect like Rhys himself sometimes did.

Jack had only quickly glanced at his resume, his focus on Rhys’ person instead. The older man was inspecting him closely, both hands steepled on his mouth as he looked over his prospective new bartender with a look Rhys couldn’t quite read. The silence was only broken when Jack leaned back in his chair.

“So, ‘private parties’, huh?”

“Uh…. yeah…” Rhys answered a little nervously, thinking more and more that Fiona’s birthday party _reeeeally_ didn't count in the scheme of things.

Jack gave him a smirk, silent a moment before asking his next question. 

“What's your favorite drink, kiddo? You _are_ old enough for this job, right?”

Rhys snorted, but at the playful look on the older man’s face, he didn’t take it personally. “To make or drink?”

“To drink.”

“Well, I like champagne to be honest.”

Jack snorted and leaned forward on the desk again to give him a surprised look. “Pfft classy guy like you wants to work here? We don’t even carry champagne for the kind of bar flies that hang around here, babe.”

“I _like_ champagne, but I've got a beer budget,” Rhys clarified quickly. “ _And_ I really need this job.”

Jack laughed. “Fair enough. Okay how about drink to make if you were trying to get into someone's pants?”

“I-- _Pardon?”_

Jack grinned like a shark. “We depend on the regulars, but this is a college town, and that means trust-fund babies with more petty-cash than sense. Flirt with me, princess. Try to sell me a more expensive drink. I wanna see what you can do.”

“I uh…okay.” He cleared his throat, feeling awkward as hell as the older man looked at him. “ _Heeeey there_.” Rhys sat there feeling awkward as Jack gave him an ‘are you fuckin’ serious?’ look. The younger man huffed. “Well-- I mean come _on._ Give me _something_ to work with,” Rhys pleaded as he tried to think of a way out of this problem. “I don't want to try to sell you tequila if you're a cocktail type.”

Jack snorted. “Fair point. I'm the whiskey type, baby. Fancy taste but on a basic budget. Upsell me something.”

Whiskey. Rhys knew a few things about whiskey. His uncle thought he was something of a whiskey connoisseur. He could-- he could probably fake it. Most likely. As long as there weren't follow up questions. “What're you drinking in particular tonight, _sir?”_

Jack grinned. “I don't even know the name of it, sweetheart, it's so cheap.”

He was making this hard. That's okay. If there was anything Rhys was good at, it was bullshitting. He could do this. “What do you like in a good whiskey if you could choose? You strike me as a rye man.”

“Nah, more oaky and smooth. I’m more of a sweet-notes guy myself. Honey.”

Rhys saw his opening, and he went for it. “You're gonna have to buy me a drink if you're gonna sweet talk me, mister.” At Jack’s amused snort, Rhys’ lip pouted, looking back towards an imaginary bottle on a shelf above him, giving the bar owner an expectant look. “That tennessee honey is calling your name, handsome.”

Jack was staring at him keenly, an amused smirk with an unrecognizable edge to it. Rhys wondered if he should stop the little exercise now, his pout slipping to a slightly self-conscious smile, hoping he hadn’t crossed any lines. Jack moved forward where he sat, and Rhys’ heart beat in his chest as he remained where he was, eyes on Jack's lips and handsome face as the older man’s lips quirked to a smile and he began to say something.

Then his fake septum dropped from his nose.

Jack broke out laughing as the ring fell with a metallic clatter to the desktop, the younger man's face turning pure red as it settled on the old wood.

Whatever spell he'd weaved was broken, the thick tension snapped as the older man fell back in his seat, looking at Rhys with amused, smoldering eyes and lingering chuckles as he grinned at the red-faced younger man.

“Kid...level with me for reals now,” he said through a smirk. “Those are all fake, right?”

“Ahh….”

Jack couldn’t suppress his snickers. “Any of those real?”

Rhys sighed with embarrassment like a little kid caught in a lie. His face was on fire. “...No.”

Jack's grin only grew wider. “The ink too?”

Rhys sat up straight and confident. “N-no! My tattoos are all real! Every last one!”

Jack gave him a quirk of his brow, licking his finger and leaning back over the desk to then smudge at Rhys’ inked collarbone. The motion made Rhys go utterly scarlet from embarrassment though he didn’t stop him, heart picking up as the attractive older man rubbed, and Jack removed himself with a laugh. 

“Guess that's the real deal...” He chuckled at Rhys’ red face. “You don't need to look some cliche part, kiddo. I just want my regulars to keep coming in and the rando’s reaching deep in those pockets. As long as you smile at ‘em, you're pretty enough that any new clientele will probably keep coming back. Can you make that happen for me?”

Rhys was shocked. Was he actually being offered the job? He passed? 

Jack thought he was pretty? 

“Y-yes sir! Absolutely!”

“Great. And cut the sir, shit. Just Jack. I'll have Maya cut you some paperwork and we'll be all set. Get you started in this shithole.”

Jack got up from his seat, not helping the snickering as he ushered Rhys out. He flicked the ring towards Rhys. “Don't forget your jewelry, kiddo. See ya Monday.”

\--

Rhys mainly answered to Maya, as she was senior bartender at Hyperion and she generally kept his house in order, so to speak. There were a few other employees Rhys saw in passing for changing of the shifts, but mostly it was just him and Maya, and rarely, Jack.

Rhys’ first week was easy. Thankfully, Jack seemed to be somewhat of an absentee owner, as Rhys was pretty sure he’d only talked to the man once the entire time he was there, and he'd turned so red in remembrance of his damn fake piercings that Jack snickered every time their eyes met. Luckily though, it seemed more like Maya was in charge, training him, showing him the ropes, and Jack’s appearances were few and far between.

Not that he was complaining. Any pressure he’d felt was much relieved without the owner’s stupid handsome face distracting his pours while he was ‘flirting’ with customers. He was surprised by how easy the job actually was; to mostly be pouring beer and wine instead of using all that fancy schooling he’d bought. The job wasn't nearly as intimidating as its handsome owner, and Rhys caught on quick.

Thankfully the type of crowd that Jack’s bar drew weren’t the fancy cocktail type. He poured shots of hard liquor and made the random margarita, but it was a pretty low-stress gig, and his random acts of flirting had even netted him some pretty decent tips. Forget about only doing it for upselling, he was going to actually have money left _over_ after they paid rent this month.

Him and Maya always walked to their cars together for the night, eyes watchful and ears alert. Maya carried a very-impressive taser, and informed Rhys that _one_ unlucky idiot who’d tried to rob her had ended up pissing his pants and getting the crap beaten out of him by the blue-haired woman. Word got around, apparently, and she hadn’t had any trouble since.

Still though, it was smarter to walk together. And it made Rhys feel a little less worried about the wad of cash in his pocket from his tips, and excited to tell Vaughn they'd be _early_ on rent this month. The benefits of the job far outweighed the risks, and Rhys was having a damn good time of it.

His gratitude wouldn't forego the chewing out he still gave Fiona for misleading him about the job in the first place, and the embarrassment over his stupid nose ring still stung, even if he'd been working there after a week and a half.

“Fiona!! I made a fool of myself! _None_ of that jewelry or shit was necessary!”

“Well when I went there that seemed the type…”

“I thought you said you went there often!”

“Like, sometimes… Two times… That counts right? You got the job though? Vaughn said you got the job.” Rhys’ voice was annoyed as he begrudgingly admitted he had. “See? It all worked out!”

“Except my boss mutters ‘nosering’ whenever he sees me now and laughs his damn head off,” Rhys grumbled.

It was okay though. Jack smiled even when teasing him, and it wasn't like he was around often enough for it to get under his skin. And when he was there, Rhys couldn't meet his stupid gorgeous eyes, and instead stacked glassware or wiped down bottles to stay too-busy to chat. He refused to meet Jack’s eyes when the older man told him “good job”, and he fidgeted self-consciously the first few nights when it was just the two of them. After the first week Maya was off at her sister’s wedding out of state, though, they’d settled into a pretty comfortable routine, and Rhys found himself greatly enjoying Jack’s company.

“You know, this look suits you, princess.”

“Huh?” Rhys looked down at himself as Jack was counting his till, the older man shooting him a smirk from under reading glasses as he added the drawer.

“The _not_ walking around like a human metal-detector.”

Rhys snorted. Yeah, okay, he looked completely different from when he'd first interviewed. All that costume jewelry was in a box on his dresser never to be spoken of again. “Yeah, well… You never know what to expect.”

“That look would fly over at Torgue’s down the street, but then you're too pretty to work in a place like that.”

Rhys knew of the place. Biker bar, lots of fights, more leather than he'd know what to do with. He'd considered applying there, but it was more intimidating than he thought he could handle. 

That’s where Fiona’s recommendation had come in. He supposed he _could_ thank her… down the line. After giving her a little more shit.

“Well, I’m lucky I came in when I did.”

“I’ll say,” Jack told him with a grin. He looked up from final tabulations. “All good, cupcake. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

Rhys grabbed his stuff as Jack went to the back office with the cash drawer. He had his jacket on and his tips secured in his pocket as Jack saw him out.

“There’s a big game at the college this weekend,” Jack started as they walked to the lone car in the small parking lot out back. He toyed with the watch he kept on a chain in his pocket as they came to stand before Rhys’ car. “You wanna work?”

“Isn’t Maya coming back?” Rhys asked. A college game _plus_ the weekend meant big money. Maya should have first dibs on it, and he’d be majorly burning a bridge with her if he took it from under her nose.

“She’s gonna be jetlagged and mouthier than usual, and probably ask for it off. _Again,_ ” Jack told him with a grin. “She tell you about her sister?”

“Lilith?”

“Yeah, _boy_ when those two are in town together… Heh…” Jack chuckled. “Mouth like a sailor, real class act,” Jack said with genuine admiration in his voice. “She’s a force to be reckoned with. Used to work for me before moving out of state. Good kid.”

Rhys snorted. He’d seen pictures of the two that Maya had shown him. She looked like someone better suited to Torgue’s, honestly. He hoped she had a good wedding.

“So, wanna work?”

Rhys grinned. “Count me in.”

\--

Rhys looked at the clock and huffed. 

They were still open for two more hours, but it was dead. Deader than dead.

A college party had been in there earlier, and he’d slung more beer than the rest of the week combined, but that had trickled out as some sports match had started up and celebratory house parties began. The night was still early for the bar, but it was already late for the neighborhood. Even the regulars had gone to the event.

“Hey pumpkin, wanna close early?”

Rhys looked up to where Jack had been hanging out on the end bar stool playing some game on his phone for the past hour. “Two hours early?”

“I don't mind if you don’t.” Jack put his phone in his pocket and looked around. “Home sweet home has never seemed so far,” he said with a grin. He pointed above, where his little apartment above the bar was located. ‘Go home’ was an overstatement for just walking upstairs. “I'll walk you to your car all the sooner if you don't care.”

Rhys sure as hell didn't. No customers meant no tips, and Jack might've paid well, but it was peanuts compared to what the younger man was making in tips now. Hourly was for chumps. And he could only take so much more of Jack’s cursing at his game and re-wiping the same spot on the bar.

Jack helped him close up shop, wipe down tables and put up all but the chair Rhys sat in as Jack counted his cash drawer. They’d worked fast and efficiently together, and Rhys allowed himself to watch the older man a little closer while he concentrated on the stacks of money.

“So how was your day, kiddo? This drawer looks fit to burst.”

Rhys watched him put on reading glasses, a pleased little thrill at the way it made the older man look distinguished, but like he'd kick your ass for saying so. It was a good look. “Pretty good, if I say so myself.”

“I’ll bet you charmed the pants off those college kids.”

Rhys snorted, not adding anything to incriminate himself as Jack counted his register and added things up on a calculator.

“Ho-lee shit Rhysie, you did damn well today. Damn well.” Jack gave him a crooked smirk. “You’re not riding that line between flirty and solicitation, are ya kiddo? Because _wow.”_

Rhys chose to laugh at that rather than be offended. “I _told_ you I know how to charm people.”

“Probably easy after you get ‘em good and liquored up, babe.” Jack looked behind himself at the wall of liquor, wondering what had sold so good and what he'd have to order more of. It also gave him an idea that made him smirk. The night was relatively young. Why not indulge a little? “Well, congrats. I think you've earned a drink with the boss.”

“Oh yeah?” Rhys asked, a grin on his face. He'd had a big day, and hell, a drink sounded damn dandy. He was gonna sleep good tonight.

Jack set out shot glasses as he gathered Irish cream and kahlua, a smirk on his face as Rhys raised an eyebrow at him with a knowing grin. The older man gave him a wink. “Can I interest you in a blowjob, buttercup?”

“And I don’t even have to buy you dinner or anything first? Wow Jack.”

Jack looked at him with amused surprise before his braying laughter filled the bar. Rhys grinned in self-satisfaction as the older man’s laughs turned to chuckles, and Jack shook his head in genuine amusement. Rhys thought he was witty as hell. “...Shit pumpkin...”

“Blowjobs were _really_ popular today,” Rhys said with a grin. “Stupid college boys ordered a ton of ‘em tonight just for novelty’s sake. You should hear some of the things they said to me.”

Jack wished he could have been there to see all kinds of young idiots flirting with Rhys and asking him for blowjobs, and how the snarky younger man would've replied to the silly shot. “I'm more interested in what _you_ told them, kiddo.”

Rhys gave him a shit-eating grin, leaning in conspiratorially as Jack made the drinks. “That it takes more than one blowjob to get my attention.” Jack was laughing hard at that, stopping his pour, and Rhys gave an exasperated sigh as the older man still laughed. “I mean it, Jack. I must've made ten of those today. It was _ridiculous._ That’s the last of the kahlua, by the way.”

“Hiring you is the best decision I ever made,” Jack said with a snort as the older man finished off the shots with a spray of whipped cream. He slid one over to Rhys from the other side of the bar, and raised it with a smirk. “Down the hatch?”

“It's not authentic if you take it with your _hands,_ Jack,” Rhys teased as Jack fingered the shot between pointer and thumb. 

That sent a thrilling little spike of arousal through the older man. Rhys was giving him a challenging little grin, and the older man decided he'd rise to the look. “You gonna put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart?” The older man gestured to Rhys’ shot, and the younger man put his hands behind his back. He bent at the waist and got the shot glass between his lips, lifting it up and wiggling a bit to get the cream to release from the glass. He was expecting the gush of alcohol, and ended up _not_ sputtering it everywhere like the first time he'd had one, and set the glass down and licked his lips.

Jack whistled, impressed, eyes locked on Rhys’ lips as he still held his own shot. “Bet you made a lot of idiots jump through hoops for you today, sweetheart.” Jack's grin was all teeth as he took the shot normally. Rhys snorted. “Aw come on. Using your hands? Makes any blowjob better. Ask anyone.”

That actually made Rhys laugh a fair deal, and Jack grinned with self-satisfaction. “One more?”

Rhys smirked. Sounded good to him. “If you’re buyin’.” Jack snorted but grinned, and took a bottle of whiskey off the top shelf, pouring them each a generous shot on the rocks. Rhys gave him a bit of a surprised look. “That's not the cheap shit, Jack.”

“Well I'm not a cheap date,” the older man argued without a care, swirling his own glass in his hand. “Don't shoot something this fine, Rhysie. Sip it. Something this old is meant to be enjoyed properly.”

Rhys smirked, a pleasant warmth in his belly spreading up his neck. “Better to savor it?”

“You bet your sweet ass.” Jack took his attention from the glass back to Rhys, a playful, challenging gleam in his eyes. “How would you sell me _this_ one, cupcake? Top dollar here. It’s gonna be hard.”

That was a challenge Rhys was more than ready to rise to, and boy was he going to make Jack eat his words. “Well _sir,_ if you're looking for a good time at Hyperion, our highest shelf whiskey _tastes_ like an orgasm _feels.”_

Jack nearly spat out his whiskey in shock at the confident, chuckled words of the younger man as he was grinning into his rocks glass. _That_ was unexpected, but more than satisfactory.

Rhys was certain he must have a dirty little smile was on his face for saying something like that, but he'd had a long shift and there'd been too many innuendos today for him to just turn all that off. Was he coming on to his boss? Maybe. Jack didn't actually seem to mind in the least, and he’d definitely got what he wanted.

They chatted for some time over the expensive whiskey, sipping slowly like Jack had said, and they spoke of work and idiot customers and all kinds of silly, inconsequential things until it was actually rather late. Rhys realized at some point he'd allowed Jack to take his hand, and the older man was stroking it with his thumb. It made his belly do somersaults, delicious flames of arousal licking up his spine.

They’d been flirting, he realized. Bad idea, but he hadn't been laid in a long time, and Jack was good looking, and _damn_ this was a bad bad idea, but the thought of fucking his boss was looking more and more delicious by the second. Especially when Jack leaned over the bar to kiss his lips, and Rhys held the back of the older man’s neck with his hand, opening his mouth to him and meeting the taste of whiskey on Jack’s tongue.

“Hey, bad idea, but what do you say we take this upstairs?” Jack proposed with a smirk at the needy little moan Rhys gave when they’d broken for air.

“I thought you’d never fucking ask.”

Jack never needed to walk Rhys to his car, the two going to Jack’s apartment up above after some idle touches and smoldering looks. Rhys wanted to bite that smug smirk right off Jack’s lips, and he was excited and anxious and _god_ Jack had a great ass in those jeans.

It had bad idea written all over it, he knew. Even as their mouths searched one another out as he couldn't wait to get upstairs, tongues hot against each other and hands everywhere. Jack was big and broader than he was, the older man's body pressing his against the stairwell wall. It sent eager thrills through him to settle in his cock, the little groaning noises as they groped one another the only sound in the space. It was taboo and erotic as hell and Rhys _wanted_ so bad he almost couldn’t take it.

Rhys only made it a few steps up the stairs before Jack had him half-laying, half-sitting on them, and was working a hand up Rhys’ front and exposing his torso to get to his nipples.

“Mm… You weren't kidding about those tattoos, were you.” Rhys moaned in response as Jack tugged on a nipple with his teeth, the sensation jolting him in pleasure as Jack’s other hand palmed the opposite nipple in overstimulation. The ink wouldn't come off, no matter how much Jack nipped and sucked at his skin. He wouldn't say no to a bit more testing, though.

Rhys pulled the older man's head up, angling for another kiss that Jack was more than willing to grant. Palms flat against one another's bodies, exploring and testing, teasing and arousing. Rhys wanted him _badly._ So badly he might let him have him on the damn stairs themselves. He was hard and straining against the front of his pants, and he whined when Jack palmed him, his own cock straining through the material of his jeans.

The liquor made his head spin and the taste of the older man made his groin throb. He thrust upwards into the hand Jack had pressed against the bulge in his pants, and moaned out the older man's name as Jack gave him a squeeze.

“ _Damn_ you got a pretty voice,” Jack told him as he kneaded at the bulge under his palm. He had pretty ink too. Probably a pretty dick. He was going to satisfy that curiosity shortly. “I'm gonna make you _sing,_ sweetheart.”

“I'd like that to happen... rather sooner than later,” Rhys teased about the long fondling, gasping and thrusting his hips into Jack’s hand.

“Hmph.” Jack sat as much he could over the younger man’s legs, undoing Rhys’ button and zipper as Rhys chuckled. His clothed cock stood proudly out of the opening, and Jack smirked down with satisfaction at the wet spot of arousal. He licked his lips before palming Rhys through the thin material, voice husky with want. “Can I interest you in a blowjob, baby?”

“I'm going to skip the jokes and say yes please,” Rhys sighed, stretching a bit under the older man and pressing into his hand.

Jack chuckled as he worked Rhys’ jeans down his hips, the blue underwear he wore following suit. Rhys’ cock sprang up freely, unhampered, and the younger man gave a pleased moan at the lack of restriction and the heat of Jack’s hand. His cock was free and hard and bobbing right under his boss’s face, and it twitched as Rhys imagined how good Jack’s mouth would feel on him at any second.

The bar owner’s hand was big and warm as he took Rhys’ length into his palm, admiring him as he rubbed his thumb up and down the sensitive skin. “Real nice baby. You got a pretty dick, you know that?”

Rhys’ voice was a breathy chuckle, little sounds of pleasure escaping him as Jack stroked. “You should… _ah..._ see the rest of me… mmm, Jack _like that_ …”

Jack didn't know where this confident Rhys came from, but he liked it immensely. He wanted more. Wanted to see what Rhys would do; how he would act; how he would sound and taste and _feel_ if Jack had him squirming on his cock.

“You ever been fucked, princess?”

“What happened to blowing me?” Rhys’ face was lazy, relaxed and game, but he still teased the older man. It was arousing as hell, and the thought of being fucked by Jack? Yeah, he could dig it.

“Oh I'm going to suck the soul right out of _you,_ sweetheart,” the older man chuckled, moving down to ghost lips over the younger man as Rhys gasped and whined and leaked steadily. He gave the head a lick, and the younger man made a strangled groan. “But the night is young and we don't open ‘til noon. Kind of a waste _just_ for blowjobs.”

Rhys gave him a dirty grin, licking his lips absently in thought. “Mm sounds like a nice time. If you've got the energy.”

Rhys found himself eating his words as Jack’s hot mouth descended on him, sucking him down and humming while Rhys nearly choked on his pleasure right there. It felt so good and had been so long, and with the filthy leer in Jack’s eyes as the older man looked up at him, Rhys’ fingers tangled in Jack’s hair and he just barely gave him warning.

Jack had him coming hard, legs spasming around the older man as his head still bobbed between his legs. Rhys was pushing him away weakly after Jack was licking him clean, the satisfied whispers of the younger man making Jack smile. Rhys had practically melted onto the stairs under him, and Jack gave his thigh a fond pat.

“You're a cute young thing, Rhysie, I bet we can get it up again.”

Rhys chuckled, one of his own hands lazily encircling his nipple at the thought. Jack's eyes were glued to the motion. “I'd take that bet. After maybe a minute.”

Jack snickered as he sat up. He was throbbing in his pants, more blood in his cock than his head. The sweet little noises Rhys had made were on repeat in his mind, and he wanted another round. “I'm thinking I like you a lot, kiddo.”

“And you haven't even seen the best part yet,” the younger man said with a smirk.

“Yeah, I _really_ like you.” Jack gave Rhys’ flank an affectionate squeeze, making the younger man snicker.

They made their way up to Jack's bedroom upstairs, kissing and grinding against one another, Rhys hard once again for the handsome man above him. He moaned when Jack’s pants came off, and he’d rushed prepping himself once they were entangled on the bed together, urging Jack to just _fuck him_ already.

The sex was sloppy and fun and such a bad idea that Rhys wouldn't even regret it if things got weird later. Right now, his super-hot new boss was fucking him within an inch of his life above his new workplace, the headboard pounding against the wall and making him laugh amidst moans, and Rhys didn't hold back an inch.

Jack was coming as he pounded into his pretty employee, wrenching sounds from the younger man that he knew would get him again and again just thinking about it. He’d certainly never look at the pretty younger man the same way again. Especially after the wild, desperate look in his eye as he rode Jack’s cock to his own completion.

They fell dead asleep, satisfied next to one another, and it had to be one of the top three best nights of Rhys’ entire damn life.

\--

The soft chime of Rhys’ phone alarm caused the younger man to stir, and as he slowly remembered where he was, he was met with the smiling face of the best lay he’d had in a long time. Jack’s brushed some messy hair from Rhys’ face, and the younger man practically purred at the gentle touch.

“Damn you're pretty to wake up to. You know that pumpkin?”

Rhys smiled sleepily, still not exactly coherent. But then, he didn’t need to to be a smart ass. “Tell me a few more times so I don’t forget it.”

Jack barked out a laugh at that, the hand brushing through Rhys’ hair caressing down his shoulder and side to rest on his flank. Rhys hummed in pleasure. It felt nice.

“So Rhysie, elephant in the room here,” Jack began easily-enough, and the younger man cracked his eyes open in judgment for being so coherent so early in the morning. Jack paid him no mind. “I know there's… We still have to work together, babe, but… I don’t know, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe not, but if-- You’re good for this bar is what I’m sayin’ here. It doesn't have to be awkward if you regret last night.” Rhys gave him a frown. “If _not_ though, well, my office is always open.”

Rhys snorted louder than necessary and gave Jack a point-blank look. “I haven't gotten laid in a really long time, and fuck, have you seen yourself in a mirror? _How_ could I regret it?” Rhys admitted without embarrassment. 

Jack _was_ really insanely handsome and the sex had been fun and good. He'd be stupid not to want more. And if it became awkward down the line? Well, he’d let future-Rhys deal with that.

Jack grinned. “You won't get a raise from the boss by stating facts, pumpkin.”

“I don't care if I get to fuck the boss again.”

Rhys was already thinking of excuses he could come up with to Vaughn if it came to losing his job. Because whether he'd compromised his position or not, he wanted the older man again. And maybe a few more times after that. Until he had committed the sounds Jack made as he came to memory.

Jack laughed. “Holy shit, I'm so glad I hired you. I won't lie that being a good lay is gonna give you carte blanche for some time, baby, but you've still gotta do your job.”

“Sounds plenty fair,” Rhys agreed with a smirk. Good job _and_ he got to fuck the boss on the side? Sign him the fuck up. “By the way, can I have the day off? My boss has _really_ been riding my ass recently and I don't think I can handle being on my feet all day,” Rhys joked.

Jack snorted. “Yeah, only if the boss can take it off too.”

“I think that’s fair.”

“Sounds good.” 

Rhys pulled Jack to him as the older man hovered over him for a kiss. He hummed into his mouth, the warmth and solidness of the other man making him more than aware of his morning wood. Jack snickered as he pulled away, giving Rhys a smug-ass smirk.

“Now that that’s settled, can I interest you in a blowjob?”

**Author's Note:**

> Blowjobs were the first shot I ever made for someone at the Irish bar I worked at xD AND I made them take it the authentic way much to the enjoyment of the others at the bar. They ran up a 120$ tab AHAHAH good shit.
> 
> Leave a comment if you've enjoyed, yes? :) No account necessary or if you want to leave one on anon; your email is only so _you_ can reply if i reply :) Support your writers!
> 
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